Spirituality

Science fiction is a proud genre of literature. From the quirky cautionary tales of Philip K. Dick to the sociological extrapolations of Ursula K. Le Guin to the grand entertainments of Robert Heinlein, Arthur C. Clarke or Isaac Asimov, it provokes wonder and mind- stretching with its frisky curiosity and its hints of fantastic secrets barely glimpsed.

Another caretaker of the sense of wonder has traditionally been religion. In bygone ages religion’s stock in trade was contact with the wholly other, the divine mystery, the miraculous.

For example, see the Old Testament, where Moses chats with a burning bush, a whirlwind stumps old man Job or playful, creative Wisdom frolics with God before time began. Our spiritual ancestors looked around, open-eyed, and wrestled with the big questions, speculating about the deepest unknowns -- kind of like good science fiction.

We have relegated such tales of genuine religious experience to the pedestal of holy writ, at the same time ignoring their counterparts today. Religion has neglected its age-old role as a caretaker of wonder, yielding it instead to scientists.

The U.S. Catholic Bishops last month advised Catholic chaplains, health care facilities and retreat centers not to promote or support Reiki therapy, a Japanese alternative healing practice.

The practice of Reiki, the bishops’ said, "finds no support either in the findings of natural science or in Christian belief."

"A Catholic who puts his or her trust in Reiki would be operating in the realm of superstition," the bishops said.

The statement, issued by the bishops’ Committee on Doctrine, can be found on the U.S. Bishops’ web site.

After its publication, NCR asked two Catholic women who have been practitioners of Reiki to share their experiences. Both said it has enhanced their spiritual lives. Neither sees it as conflicting with their Catholic beliefs.

Lauri Lumby Schmidt tells her story. She is a Reiki Master. She says it has allowed here to continue the healing ministry of Jesus.

I was first introduced to Reiki some five years ago. At the time, I was in a very unhealthy relationship; I saw no way out of financial woes; and I had forsaken my career in theatre. The longer I stayed trapped, the sicker I became mentally, emotionally, and physically.

By the time I had my first Reiki session, I had been seeing a therapist twice a week for depression; I had developed all kinds of food allergies; and I was an emaciated 99 pounds.

Being skeptical of anything that even hints at being “spiritual,” I called my diocese to see if they knew anything about Reiki, and to my surprise, I was transferred to a nun who actually taught it! She told me, “We find that Reiki aids in meditation and prayer.” I later discovered for myself that by relaxing the body, the mind just naturally follows. Reiki helps you achieve a meditative state, enabling you to quiet your mind you I can “hear” God’s answers.

Years ago, Easter was a feast of riotous joy because it signaled the end of fasting, abstaining from meat, and from doing other Lenten penances. You can rejoice today in the resurrection of Christ and in the fact that you are leaving the hospital of Lent with a healing prescription for the unparalleled drug of wellness and wholesome living.

Your prescription is for Triduum, which is Latin for “a space of three days.” This is what we call sundown on Holy Thursday through Easter Sunday evening. The Galilean pharmacist’s recipe for making Triduum is to mix a compound of three healing ingredients: the Supper of the Lord, his Passion and Death, and his Resurrection.

Medicines frequently carry the instruction, “Take with food,” and this is especially true for your Triduum prescription. At each meal, take a moment of your time before you begin eating to relish the memory of Jesus, who by his love transformed all meals into occasions of holy communion. Before your family Easter dinner, you might want to renew an old table ritual.

A Holy Thursday reflection

Tonight we have been invited to an intimate dinner among a few friends. But these men did not begin as friends. Jesus was not a celebrity looking for fans, or a politician on the hustings. Jesus was a teacher looking for students, disciples. They didn’t have to be bright — just teachable.

So, he first chose Peter: rock-solid in his own way after he had been quarried. Loyal as a dog, dependable in crisis. He was the kind of leader that others could lean on. Jesus could count on Peter to get the job done whether it was easy or hard, whether he felt like it or not, whether he understood it or not.

On the other end of the spectrum was John. More a lover than a man of action. Someone to sit around with, talk with, pray with, be with. Not very useful otherwise. But then, what good is a new kingdom if there is no love there? John would keep recalling the others to the whole point of their message and mission.